


Cosset

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Sex Work, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 04:16:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14300586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis visits his best employee.





	Cosset

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Prom is Noct's pampered whore. Noct sets Prom up in his own apartment with everything he could ever want- space for photography, chocobos, all the cute kittens and puppies he could want, all his favorite foods. Prom doesn't so much as have to lift a finger of he doesn't want to, as long as he spreads his legs and moans all sweet for the Prince. +trans boy prom ++risk of pregnancy/referenced lack of condom useage” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9596811#cmt9596811).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The car pulls to a stop in the gated parking lot of one of the most expensive apartment complexes in all of Insomnia, and Ignis still frowns at him as though he’s strolling through the slums. Noctis ignores the obvious disapproval and slips out of the passenger’s side, heavy gift bag in hand. The motor doesn’t run again until Noctis is safely through the doors. For once, his phone doesn’t vibrate with the obligatory ‘ _no incidents, please_ ,’ and he can’t help but wonder if that means that Ignis has finally accepted the inevitable. Or, better yet, perhaps Ignis has finally gotten to know Noctis’ favourite ‘employee’ and realized just how perfect for the job he is.

The elevator rises nearly to the top floor before it stops, and then Noctis is out into the empty hall. Another few steps and he’s knocking. The door opens faster than usual.

Prompto’s on the other side, grinning like a small star, dressed like any normal guy their age. He’s got one boot on, but he kicks out of it as he throws the door wider for Noctis to come in. Noctis does so, shutting and locking it after. Before Noctis has the chance to start on his own shoes, Prompto’s bouncing right down to the floor, kneeling before Noctis and setting to work on the thick black laces. He coos up at Noctis while he unties them, “You should’ve called, Your Highness; I would’ve gotten ready.”

Usually, Noctis does. And it’s always worth it for the ways in which Prompto will answer his door—the ridiculous or mouth-watering outfits he’ll wear, the fun or seductive poses, and the promising things he’ll have in hand. But at least Prompto looks just as good in his sleeveless red shirt and light grey pants, a set of gloves and armband topping it all off. 

Noctis counters, “I like making surprise visits too, so I can check that you haven’t gotten anyone else up here.”

Prompto snorts, “Like I’d _want_ anyone else.” When he pats the side of Noctis’ boot, Noctis lifts it up, lightly resting on Prompto’s thigh. Prompto tugs the boot smoothly off. Prompto’s cute face is perfectly positioned for _other_ kinds of service, and he does stare pointedly forward despite keeping up the casual conversation. “Lucky you weren’t five minutes later, though—I was just about to go shopping.”

The second boot comes off. Prompto stays on his knees, glancing up through his pale lashes. For a brief moment, Noctis thinks of sliding a hand through his sunshine-yellow hair, caressing the back of his skull and tugging him just that tiny bit closer. But then the weight of Noctis’ bag brings him back to Eos, and he taps beneath Prompto’s chin instead. Prompto takes the signal and climbs back to his feet. When he’s there, toe-to-toe with Noctis, Noctis takes a step closer to coolly tease, “Why? Don’t I provide you everything you need?”

A subtle blush stains Prompto’s freckled cheeks. He’s at his best when he’s pink all over, and it’s not hard to cause. It takes him a second to regain himself enough to wink and elaborate, “Almost, but I’m running low on a few essentials. ...Like condoms.”

“Do you _really_ need those?”

Prompto hesitates for a fraction of a second, and that’s enough to speed Noctis’ pulse—he was only joking, or at least, mostly joking. Then Prompto’s back to grinning lightly and chirping, “Not even for you, Noct.” But he’s still got that smile that says _maybe someday._

Maybe when they’re older. Maybe if their situation changes. Noctis opens his mouth and _knows_ that he could change Prompto’s mind. He also knows he shouldn’t push Prompto. So he closes his mouth again and beelines for the living room. Prompto automatically follows, though Noctis doesn’t miss his glance towards the bedroom. Noctis tells him, “In a minute—I got a present for you first.”

Instantly, Prompto’s alight. As soon as Noctis is sitting down on the black couch in the living room, Prompto’s right next to him, trying to squeeze onto the same cushion, close enough that their thighs are touching and Noctis can feel just how _warm_ Prompto’s body is beneath his clothes. It’s tempting to forget the present entirely and skip right to ravaging that gorgeous figure. But Noctis’ eyes catch on the adorable shiba puppy curled up in the corner, sleeping snuggly in a plump bed by the television. Noctis vividly remembers passing that very dog into Prompto’s waiting arms and seeing the pure bliss blossoming across his handsome face. Sometimes, bringing Prompto gifts is almost as good as sex. _Almost._

Noctis wordlessly passes the gift bag into Prompto’s lap. Prompto clutches at the sides before opening it, eyeing Noctis with that same enormous smile that first made Noctis shell out for the apartment. He bough the couch too, the coffee table, the wide-screen TV—everything nice that Prompto owns. All worth it. Ever gracious, Prompto asks engagingly, “What is it?”

Noctis tells him, “Guess.”

“Hmm,” Prompto hums, glancing about the room, “I don’t suppose you could fit a whole chocobo in here...”

“You want a chocobo?” Noctis chuckles, knowing full well that Prompto does. “You know I’ll have to get you stables first...”

Prompto grins in that sort of sheepish way he does when Noctis buys him a little _too_ much, but he always takes it in the end, because Noctis makes him feel too good to say no. He switches the subject instead, leaning a little closer and trying huskily, “Is it _that_ kind of toy...?”

Noctis wishes. But he’s already bought every sex toy he can think of, tried them all on Prompto, and kept them in the easily reachable drawers by Prompto’s bed. Noctis knows the game today can’t go any further or his mind will spiral down that road, and he’ll want Prompto _now_ , right here on the couch in front of that poor puppy. So he nudges Prompto’s shoulder with his own and presses, “Open it and see.” 

Prompto digs in. He pulls out the crinkled wax paper stuffed in for effect, tossing it aside, until he can see the contents. Then his eyes go wide, and he lifts the new camera out with an awed look of reverence. It’s the absolute latest model, hot out of the factory, reserved specially for the prince while everyone else is stuck on the waiting list. Noctis doesn’t know the specifics of it himself, but he doesn’t have to. He knows that Prompto’s been following its production for months, practically salivating over the articles, and that’s all that matters. 

The bag falls away as Prompto sets the camera down in its places. For a long moment, he just ogles it, thumbs tracing smoothly over its silver shell. Then he looks at Noctis, uncharacteristically speechless, and finally bursts, “ _Noooct_ , I love it!” He dives in to peck Noctis’ cheek, then starts pouring over it, gushing as he goes. Noctis doesn’t understand the techno-babble, but he understands and basks in Prompto’s happiness. Prompto touches every part of the camera, even fishing the manual out of the bag to read in its entirety, before he turns it on and starts playing with the menu. He snaps a quick picture of his somehow-still-sleeping dog before he gets lost in the endless settings. Once, he half turns towards Noctis, then quickly takes a picture of their feet instead, and Noctis’ stomach clenches, because he knows why—it wouldn’t be a good idea for Prompto to have his picture. At least, that’s what Ignis would say. But Noctis knows Prompto wants to. Prompto tells him how photogenic he is all the time. 

For a while, Noctis just sits there, listening to Prompto ramble and watching Prompto play. He could stretch his legs, could take out his phone, could even get some of the expensive food he’s lined Prompto’s fridge with. But Prompto’s mesmerizing to watch, so Noctis just does that, until Prompto’s intoxicating smile is too much, and Noctis needs _more_.

He cuts right through Prompto’s momentary bout of spellbound silence to order, “Open your mouth.”

Prompto’s thumb doesn’t pause against the panorama menu. He doesn’t even have to look over, just obeys and continues on. His lips part and stay wide open, tongue flat against the bottom. Noctis reaches out to trace his thumb along them before he guides Prompto over. Prompto lets himself be drawn into a long, deep kiss. Noctis takes his time licking Prompto’s insides, while Prompto shudders and leans into him, a low moan brewing between them. Prompto’s noises always get to Noctis. When Prompto breaks into a needy whine, Noctis parts their mouths just enough to command, “Take off your shirt.”

Prompto immediately strips it off. He tosses the crimson fabric aside, leaving his taut chest bare for Noctis to run his hands over. He eagerly drinks it in, tracing down Prompto’s trim sides, palming across his tight muscles, thumbing over the fading scars and up to his rosy nipples. Noctis gets his fill of Prompto’s breast and mouth before he practically growls, “Spread your legs.”

Prompto obeys, just like he always does. He’s never once defied that order. Noctis has only ever missed out a small handful of times, all because Prompto was sick or exhausted and Noctis isn’t a monster, but even then, Prompto _would’ve_. He looks at Noctis now with hazy eyes and a heavy flush along his sun-kissed skin. Noctis drops a hand between his thighs and cups him _hard_ , squeezing just enough to make Prompto arch and moan. He places the camera aside, giving more room for Noctis to play, and Noctis almost stops him. It would be fun, Noctis thinks, to let Prompto enjoy his toy while Noctis enjoyed _his_ , touching and rubbing Prompto through every shaky picture. But the more Noctis kneads Prompto’s quivering flesh, the more Noctis wants _inside it_. Another hungry kiss, and Noctis pulls away to climb off the couch. Prompto, already breathless, follows. 

Prompto takes the camera with him all the way to the bedroom, and it isn’t until they’re right beside the bed that Noctis asks, “Do you really need that now?”

“I figured my favourite client might want to take a few shots,” Prompto tries, though it looks like _he’s_ the one that wants to snap away. That goes into the _maybe someday_ category.

Noctis distracts him with a kiss and plucks the camera from his hands. Prompto lets Noctis set it on the bedside table, covering up the clock. They don’t use that anymore. Noctis is always paying overtime, and he’s almost positive that Prompto always _wants_ him to stay.

Grinning fondly, Prompto gives Noctis’ chest the lightest of pushes, but Noctis gets the hint and sits down on the edge of the bed, still close enough to pull Prompto into his arms. He doesn’t, but watches Prompto slowly work the clasp of his belt. It pops open, and as Prompto tugs it away, he murmurs, gaze lowered, “You know... I kinda feel bad sometimes, taking such expensive gifts...”

“Don’t,” Noctis easily quips, saying it just like another order. He bolsters the sentiment by reaching out for Prompto’s hips and tugging Prompto one step forward, so Noctis can catch Prompto’s lowered eyes. He can feel himself smirking as he continues, “So long as you spread your legs and moan so prettily for me, it’s more than a fair trade.”

Prompto pouts, so much cuter than he has any right to be. For a moment, he’s as playful as always, but then it melts into something _else_ , and he pauses. It looks like he has something to say, something that he’s wanted to express for quite a while, and Noctis has often seen these looks in amongst their lighter banter. Finally, Prompto admits, quiet and strangely timid, “I’d... probably do that even without the money.”

Fireworks go off in Noctis’ stomach. He’s sure it doesn’t show on his face, but inside, he’s screaming _victory._ He takes in a breath before he brings Prompto forward, still semi-dressed, and Prompto dutifully climbs right into Noctis’ lap. Noctis leans up to kiss the side of his mouth, murmuring, “I know.” Prompto’s breath hitches. Noctis can feel it as much as hear it. He gives Prompto another kiss, a longer one, and adds his own confession: “But I like having it any time I want, any way I want, and pampering you for it.” As Prompto’s smile grows, Noctis dares to purr, “But... if you _really_ want to up the stakes, you could always let me come in you...”

Prompto bites his lip. He doesn’t hesitate very long before he nods. It takes Noctis by surprise, and before he can stop himself, he’s babbled, “It’s just, the _idea’s_ really hot... and if anything happened, I’d do right by you, y’know... but... I’m not gonna guilt that out of you now...” Prompto opens his mouth, maybe to say that it wouldn’t be out of guilt, but it wouldn’t be right either, so Noctis finishes, “We’ll talk about it later.”

That seems to satisfy Prompto. He still turns redder and mumbles, sheepish but _so hot_ , “I... do kinda wanna feel you _raw_...” 

It’s Noctis’ turn to shiver with _want_. He can’t think about anything but how _perfect_ Prompto is. He repeats, “Later,” shares another kiss, and rolls them right onto the bed, finally starting.


End file.
